From the corse that hangs on the roadside tree --A murderer's corse it needs must be--, Sever the right hand carefully:-- Sever the hand that the deed hath done, Ere the flesh that clings to the bones be gone; In its dry veins must blood be none. Those ghastly fingers white and cold, Within a winding-sheet enfold; Count the mystic count of seven: Name the Governors of Heaven.[2] Then in earthen vessel place them, And with dragon-wort encase them, Bleach them in the noonday sun, Till the marrow melt and run, Till the flesh is pale and wan, As a moon-ensilvered cloud, As an unpolluted shroud. Next within their chill embrace The dead man's Awful Candle place; Of murderer's fat must that candle be --You may scoop it beneath the roadside tree--, Of wax, and of Lapland sisame. Its wick must be twisted of hair of the dead, By the crow and her brood on the wild waste shed. Wherever that terrible light shall burn Vainly the sleeper may toss and turn; His leaden lids shall he ne'er unclose So long as that magical taper glows. Life and treasures shall he command Who knoweth the charm of the Glorious Hand! But of black cat's gall let him aye have care, And of screech-owl's venomous blood beware! "Peace!" thundered Luke, extending his mother's hand towards the sexton. "What seest thou?" "I see something shine. Hold it nigher the light. Ha! that is strange, truly. How came that ring there?" "Ask of Sir Piers! ask of her _husband_!" shouted Luke, with a wild burst of exulting laughter. "Ha! ha! ha! 'tis a wedding-ring! And look! the finger is bent. It must have been placed upon it in her lifetime. There is no deception in this--no trickery--ha!" "It would seem not; the sinew must have been contracted in life. The tendons are pulled down so tightly, that the ring could not be withdrawn without breaking the finger." "You are sure that coffin contains her body?" "As sure as I am that this carcass is my own." "The hand--'tis hers. Can any doubt exist?" "Wherefore should it? It was broken from the arm by accident within this moment. I noticed not the occurrence, but it must have been so." "Then it follows that she was wedded, and I am not----" "Illegitimate. For your own sake I am glad of it." "My heart will burst. Oh! could I but establish the fact of this marriage, her wrongs would be indeed avenged." "Listen to me, Luke," said the sexton, solemnly. "I told you, when I appointed this midnight interview, I had a secret to communicate. That secret is now revealed--that secret was your mother's marriage." "And it was known to you during her lifetime?" "It was. But I was sworn to secrecy." "You have proofs then?" "I have nothing beyond Sir Piers's word--and he is silent now." "By whom was the ceremony performed?"